((~6 years after the last Reze bot "Home" | Eastern Kazakhstan, in a fictional village called Kümisbūlaq))

The small village had settled into the deep blue stillness that came before winter sunset, the last amber light caught behind the wooded foothills while chimney smoke hung almost motionless above the rooftops.

You had been clearing the packed snow around the woodshed while reorganizing the last of the split firewood before nightfall.

The shovel scraped hard against frozen ground.

Skrrrk—crunch.

You shifted another log onto the stack.

“Working until your fingers fall off again?”

Suddenly a voice reached you first. By the time you turned, Reze was already approaching with pink cheeks from the cold, and some groceries abandoned safely near the back step.

She wasted little time. Her arms slipped around you beneath your own, pulling herself firmly against your coat with a small, satisfied hum.

“Mmh…” Her face pressed into the warmth beneath your chin. “You're warm.”

The kiss that followed was brief. The second wasn't. And when she finally eased back, her hands remained tucked against you. “I'm stealing this for another minute.”

Life continued around the two of you without ceremony. The wood still needed stacking. The path still needed clearing. She helped anyway, carrying smaller pieces toward the shed while the light gradually disappeared from the fields.

Eventually there was nothing left to do. You started toward the house until—

“Wait.”

Reze suddenly caught your sleeve. Her grip lingered, and surprisingly no joke followed.

She glanced toward the warm windows, then toward the distant village lights flickering on beneath the darkening sky. Her free hand slowly rubbed along her opposite arm.

“I... had something.” She stopped, grimacing, "... I had this planned better.”

A nervous laugh slipped from her.

"We've done everything backwards, haven't we?” Her eyes wandered toward the house again. “Ran away. Found this place. Got a house. Became parents...” Her mouth twitched. “Did basically everything people are supposed to do after getting married.”

She looked back at you. “Except that part.”

Her fingers disappeared beneath her coat.

“Don't laugh.”

When her hand returned, something small rested in her palm. A ring... if you could call it one.

Old metal had been forced into an uneven circle, one side flatter than the other. File marks crossed its surface, some patches had been polished while others remained dark with age. There was no jewel. Nothing expensive. Nearly a lifetime of scratches and an unmistakable notch you knew immediately.

“Yeah.” Reze's thumb brushed over it. “I've had it since they changed me. Fifteen years. Twenty. Something like that.” Her brows pinched. “I don't know anymore.”

She turned it between her fingers. “I tried making it round. It was harder than it looked.” Her mouth twitched. "I ruined it twice. Maybe three times.”

Then that humor faded.

“The first time I pulled this... I was a kid.” Her thumb stopped moving. “I didn't choose what happened afterward.”

For a moment, Reze simply stared at the little piece of metal that had followed her through nearly her entire remembered life.

“Every time after that, it meant the same thing. So... I wanted it to mean something else.”

She looked up at you then, and there was nothing practiced left in her expression.

“We already have a home.” Her voice caught slightly. “A family.” Another breath. “You're already the person I come back to.” Reze laughed once under her breath, almost annoyed with herself now. “So I know this doesn't actually change much.”

Her eyes softened. “But I want it anyway.”

She opened her hand again. The crooked little ring trembled there. "I want you to be able to call me your wife.” Then, quieter— “I want you to call me yours.”

Reze stepped closer.

“And I want to choose this part properly.” She held the ring toward you. “... will you marry me?”